


Married at First Sight

by viennasunrise (kteaanne)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, BAMF Edwin Jarvis, Fluff, I hate Obadiah Stane, M/M, Timeline What Timeline, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-27
Updated: 2016-04-27
Packaged: 2018-06-02 03:30:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6548845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kteaanne/pseuds/viennasunrise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Howard Stark, the asshole, wrote it into his will that his son, Tony, had to be married before his 30th birthday in order to maintain control of Stark Industries. Tony's been trying to fight the mandate for the last five years but there's nothing legal can do for him. He has three months to marry someone and he's quickly running out of options.<br/>--<br/>Steve Rogers has recently been found in the arctic and, because Nick Fury can also be an asshole, he's been assigned to an undercover op to discover Iron Man's identity. The op? Marry Tony Stark at "first sight".</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Tony

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not 100% on the best way to move forward with publishing this, so here's the solution I've come up with. 
> 
> I'm leaving this chapter alone, just the way it is, as a shrine to how everything started. :D The response to this had BLOWN me away and I kind of can't believe that you all are excited for more of this!!! I didn't think I'd ever get the motivation to keep writing this but you all managed to surprise me... THANK YOU!!
> 
> But we're heading back in time starting with Chapter Two. I really wanted to explore motivations for both Tony and Steve going forward and it just felt natural to go back and start from the beginning. Howard and Maria's death for Tony and having slept in the ice for 60sih years for Steve. 
> 
> Each of them will get their own prologue and then we'll jump forward in time about 10 years to the build up to the wedding. There's going to be some serious POV shifts between chapters (probably just between Steve/Tony but I might want to go back and write out Pepper's POV on deciding this whole arranged marriage thing was the best course of action for Tony... It could be hilarious. Who knows!)
> 
> Comments, suggestions, constructive criticisms are all welcome!
> 
> You guys are seriously all my favorites. <3

Tony jumped at the sharp sound of the phone ringing, which did nothing for the monster of a hangover he’d clearly be nursing in a few hours. The whole world spun as he sat up and tried to force himself to focus enough to find the damned phone—it had to be around here somewhere. He managed to find it, stuffed under a pile of dirty laundry on the floor, and struggled to mumble out a greeting.

“‘Lo?” he groaned out.

“May I please speak with Anthony Stark?” an unfamiliar voice asked.

“May I please know why the fuck you’re calling me at three in the morning?” Tony spat back.

“Sir, this is Sergeant Hanson from the NYPD. I need to speak with Anthony Stark.”

“You’re speaking with him. What the hell do you want?”

“Anthony, I really wish I could give you this news in person but the decision was made to notify you before any information was leaked to the media—I’m sure you’ll understand how awful it would have been to find out that way. There was a terri—,” there was a knock at the door and Tony missed the rest of the sentence.

“Yeah, sure. Media… They’re a bunch of assholes. Listen, someone just knocked on my door. Can you give me a second?” Tony dropped the phone, crossed his pathetic excuse for a living room, and squinted through the peephole. What was Jarvis doing here?

He undid the locks on the door before throwing it open and greeting Jarvis with a hug; sure, it was childish, but he hadn’t seen Jarvis in months and God knew he’d always been more of a father figure than Howard.

“Hello, Tony,” Jarvis hugged him, perhaps a bit too tightly. “Have you spoken with Sergeant Hansen yet?”

“Kinda,” Tony said into his shoulder, “I was on the phone with him when you knocked. Never really go to the why though. Um,” Tony pulled away and rubbed the back of his neck in anxiety. Jarvis showing up in the middle of the night probably wasn’t a good thing. “Not that I’m not glad to see you, but why are you in Boston at three in the morning?”

“There’s been an accident, Tony. Howard and your mother didn’t make it.”

For the first time in his life Tony struggled to process new information. He’d been on the phone with Maria earlier that night, she and Howard were attending a benefit in Manhattan and their usual Friday night phone call got cut short. Howard rushed them off the phone after less than five minutes.

Jarvis wrapped an arm around Tony’s shoulder and guided him to the couch before picking the phone back up and finishing the conversation with Sergeant What’s-his-name. Tony fell into a sort of trance, trying to comprehend that his mother was dead but before he knew it Jarvis’s calm voice snapped him back to reality.

“Anthony,” Jarvis set a warm hand on his shoulder, “there’s a car waiting. You’re expected back in New York.”

Tony looked up at him, tears threatening to fall down his face, unsure of what to say. He closed his eyes, wishing this was a bad dream. Jarvis pulled him into his side, running a soothing hand along his shoulders.

“It will be alright, Anthony. Things usually have a way of working themselves out.”

He leaned into Jarvis’s embrace, glad to have a small moment of comfort before he had to face what was left of his life alone. Even if he didn’t believe a word Jarvis had said to him.

* * *

Obadiah Stane met them back at Stark Industries New York office. He looked as wrecked as Tony felt, his eyes rimmed in red as he stood waiting by the curb. Tony jumped out of the town car and clung to the older man, squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to halt a renewed wave of tears. Obie patted him on the back a few times, all the while murmuring encouragements; promises that things would be okay.

“We’ll make it through this, Tony. Don’t you worry. We’ll figure this out, you and I.”

Tony wanted to believe that things would be alright—Howard had never been much of a fixture in his life but, and he was loath to admit it, he’d loved his father in the way most children do. He’d tried so desperately over the years to earn Howard’s love, but in the end Tony was left wondering if his father even liked him. He felt a sob escape him, setting lose everything he’d been trying to stamp down all night.

“Shhh,” Obie ran fingers through Tony’s hair.

He sobbed in Obie’s arms for what felt like days before Jarvis approached the pair, suggesting wisely that they move inside; the media had begun to arrive in droves.

They started to make their way into the building when the hangover that had been threatening to destroy him since he woke up finally settled and Tony suddenly found himself on the ground emptying the contents of his stomach onto the cement. When his stomach was empty, he leaned back on his heels, staring up into the blank night sky; tears running down the side of his face as he desperately searched for god knew what. Maybe he was searching for a sign that this wasn’t real; that he hadn’t been left alone in the world. Whatever he was looking for, he didn’t find it. The sky was empty; the lights of the city drowned everything else out. Tony squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to get a grip. He could see the flash of cameras from behind his lids Couldn’t the vultures give him one second to himself? Couldn’t he grieve in peace?

Within seconds, Jarvis and Obie where there helping him back to his feet. Together they steered Tony inside the building and up to Obadiah’s office, depositing him on the couch. Jarvis sat down next to him, an arm wrapped tightly around Tony’s shoulders, while Obie settled behind his desk.

“We’re going to have to draft a statement for the press,” Obie said, “and I think it’s for the best if you’re the one to give it, Tony.”

Jarvis turned toward Obie, “I think that would be a mistake, Mr. Stane. Anthony is in no condition to address the press. It would be in his best interest if you would allow him to return home to rest.”

“While I appreciate your concern, Edwin, I believe I have a better handle on what will be good for the boy moving forward. Howard and I were business partners for more than three decades; I think I know what I’m doing.”

Tony opened his mouth to say something, anything to keep the peace, but Jarvis cut him off, squeezing his shoulders before he spoke, “With all due respect, Mr. Stane, you’ve never known what was best for Anthony. You and Howard may have had a working relationship that allowed you some contact with Anthony but I practically raised him. If anyone know’s what is best for him right now I believe it is me.”

Obie scowled across his desk before throwing his hands up in irritation “Why don’t we let the boy decide what he wants to do. Afterall, he is nineteen.” Obie looked pointedly at Tony, as if to demand Tony agree to the press conference.

Tony looked across at Obie and felt the weight of the world land on his shoulders. This is what Howard would want, for him to take up the mantle of the Stark family and make the damn statement. He felt his body tense at the thought, he wasn’t ready to be the last Stark standing. He was supposed to have years to prepare.

Jarvis moved his hand to the back of Tony’s neck and squeezed gently, drawing Tony’s attention back to him.

“Anthony,” he said gently, “the decision is yours. No one is forcing you either way.”

Jarvis’s eyes were filled with so much love and concern that Tony felt his heart twist. Whatever Obie may think, he wasn’t ready to make any public statement. He needed time and sleep. God, he was tired.

“I think I should sleep. I—I can’t face them yet, Obie. Please don’t make me.”

Obie grunted in disapproval, turning his chair to look out at the city. “If that’s what you want, Tony. I think I’ll be able to slap something together to keep them off our backs for a while.”

“Thanks, Obie,” Tony smiled sadly before yawning.

“Get some rest, Tony.” Obie shot over his shoulder, an obvious dismissal.

Tony stood, swaying a bit before Jarvis set a hand on his arm to steady him. The two of them were almost to the door when Obie turned back and asked Jarvis for a word.

“I only need him for a second, Tony. Go wait in the hall.”

Tony left the room, quietly latching the door behind him, and sunk down to the floor. He drew his knees up to his chest and tried to stay awake long enough for Jarvis to finish his chat with Obie. He must have drifted off to the low hum of voices through the wall before Obie’s office door was wrenched open, the sound of it starting Tony back to full consciousness.

Jarvis appeared at his side, clearly flustered from whatever conversation he’d had with Obie. He helped Tony back to his feet, smoothing out the wrinkles in his shirt. He looked Tony in the eye, tears threatening to spill over his cheeks, and huffed out a short laugh.

“Anthony,” he started, clasping Tony’s shoulders tighter, “no matter what happens in the coming years I need you to remember that you are not alone in this. Anna and I will always be here for you. How Howard—how your father would have wanted you to behave is immaterial. You are capable of remarkable things. Do not let anything keep you from that.”

Tony’s heart twisted again and he found himself in a tight embrace, as if Jarvis was single handedly trying to keep him from falling apart. He felt his chest swell; at the very least he’d always have Jarvis.

Before he knew it Tony found himself back at the mansion; the big, empty house he now got to call his. He hated everything about it.

Jarvis lead him up to his room, the one he’d barely slept in for the last four years. Howard had made sure of that. If there was an excuse to keep Tony away, Howard would use it. He could count the times he’d seen his mother since starting at MIT on one hand. And now, now that she was gone, Tony found himself hating Howard for that just a little bit more.

The minute his head hit the pillow he passed out. Whatever would happen later he could deal with. Jarvis would watch over him and Obie would take care of the company. At the very least, Howard’s legacy was secure; it seemed neither Jarvis nor Obie were willing to neglect their charges.

Later that day—after Obie briefed the press and made a statement on behalf of Stark Industries—those candid pictures of Tony, his head thrown back in grief staring up at a starless sky, littered the front pages of every major newspaper.

* * *

The funeral was the single worst day of Tony’s young life. Obie had pushed for him to give the eulogies, despite Jarvis insisting that Tony was capable of deciding that himself. In the end, Tony acquiesced to Obie’s demands; it was easier than fighting the man.

Howard and Maria were laid to rest on a drizzly Thursday morning. The ceremony was held graveside; Tony had asked the official funeral be kept small and free of the press. He’d delivered the speech Obie’d written for him. It was short and to the point. It praised Howard for his many achievements over the years, from his involvement with the creation of Captain America, to his work on the Manhattan Project. Obie was careful to include mentions of Maria’s philanthropic efforts and her unfailing love for Howard. Tony knew the whole thing was shit while he read it but it made Obie happy and he didn’t have the energy to argue about it.

When the funeral was over, after the last guest finished tossing their handful of dirt on the coffins, Tony found himself alone with his parents for the first time in years. Maybe ever. He couldn’t remember.

He pulled his coat collar up against the wind and stared down at them, together in death in a way they’d never been in life. It was strangely ironic and Tony had to fight back a bitter laugh at the thought.

He slipped a piece of paper out of his pocket, something he’d been working on for a while, before clearing his throat and reading the words aloud.

“Howard, on your best days you were an asshole. I only ever wanted to make you proud and you always pushed me away. You were mean, and abrasive, and a goddamn drunk. I won’t miss any of that. I won’t miss feeling like I always disappointed you. I won’t miss you telling me I wasn’t good enough.”

Tony cleared his throat, tears stinging his eyes as he turned toward Maria, addressing her in flawless Italian.

“Mom, I miss you already. I miss the quiet afternoons we had when I was younger, the ones when you taught me how to play the piano. I miss the butterfly kisses you used to give me before you sent me to bed. I miss running my fingers through your hair. I’ll always miss you calling me Bambino.”

Tony wiped away the tears from his face and crumpled the paper in his hands. “I’m so sorry you had to leave and I’ll never forgive Howard for it. I’m sorry I had to let them bury you here. I wanted to take you back to Italy but Obie told me it would look bad. I’m sorry I’m not strong enough to stand up to him. I—I will always love you.”

And with that, Tony turned on his heels and walked over to stand next to Jarvis. He’d waited for him just outside earshot. Jarvis wiped the tears from Tony’s face, before quoting Shakespeare at him.

“Woe, destruction, ruin, and decay; The worst is death, and death will have his day,” Jarvis said quietly. “Your mother would be proud of you, Anthony.”

Tony took a deep breath, he knew she would be but it didn’t make the day any easier. He shut his eyes, memorizing her face for one last second, before he turned away from his parent’s final resting place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um, yeah. So.... that wasn't a very happy chapter. But, at least it was short? I was supposed to update this over a week ago so (RL permitting) Steve's prologue should be up either tomorrow or Thursday so I can be back on track. This should be updated every Monday!


	2. Day 1: The Wedding

“And you swear that you’ve done everything you can think of? You’ve tried every loophole, explored of every possibility?” Pepper asked.

“Yes.” If he had to keep answering questions about the goddamn will he was going to lose it, “Howard’s will is airtight. There’s nothing legal can do about it. I either get married or Obadiah takes over control of the company.”

He leaned forward, resting his forehead on his desk. He felt a migraine coming on.

He’d given up fighting with the legal team less than fifteen minutes ago. They’d called him down to their floor for their final assessment of his father’s will. Howard, the bastard, had apparently believed Tony was too wild in college (he’d been 15 when he started at MIT, what the hell did the man expect?) and wrote it into his will that Tony had to be legally married by his 30th birthday or his controlling share in Stark Industries would be turned over to Obadiah Stane.

There was a large part of him that wanted to yell, “fuck it!” and give up fighting. His legal team had been working to undo that part of Howard’s will for the last five years but apparently nothing could be done. The will was ironclad and now Tony had to face the music. Either get married in the next three months or lose his company. How like Howard to keep fucking up his life from beyond the grave.

Pepper walked around his desk and Tony pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her waist and holding on for dear life. Pepper, because she was the most perfect woman in the world, ran her fingers through Tony’s hair in an attempt to calm his nerves.

“You wanna marry me,?” Tony mumbled, his face buried in Pepper’s stomach.

She laughed kindly, tipping Tony’s head back so she could look at him. “I love you but not for all the gold in El Dorado, Tony. Plus, I don’t think Happy would like that very much. He doesn’t share well.”

“Guess I’ll have to ask Rhodey then.”

“Good luck with that,” Pepper teased. “It’s going to be fine, Tony. We’ll figure this out.”

**Two Weeks Later**

“This is a joke, right? No sane person would sign up for this. I don’t beeeelieve you, Pep.” Tony whined into the phone.

Pepper sighed on the other end of the line, “Tony, this is completely legitimate. I’ve spoken with the executives at FYI and they’re thrilled that you’re interested in doing the show. They start filming at the end of the month.”

“This is insane. I can’t just marry someone I’ve never met before let alone have a camera crew follow us around for 6 weeks. Do you really see that ending well?”

“Tony, this is the best option we have left. Besides, divorce is part of this. They do an entire episode about whether or not the matched couples stay together.”

“But Pep--”

Pepper cut him off, “Tony, listen to my words. This your best shot at keeping the company out of Obadiah’s hands.”

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose, “Fine, Pep. But I expect whoever they match me with to be hot-- Greek god hot.”

Pepper laughed. “I’ll see what I can do, Tony.”

* * *

 

“I’m sorry,” Steve said, replaying the last five minutes back in his mind, “you’re assigning me to do what now?”

“You’re going undercover, Rogers. We haven’t been able to discover Iron Man’s identity yet and this is the perfect opportunity to do so. You’ll be spending six weeks with Mr. Stark as his husband and you should have plenty of time to either needle it out of him or figure it out on your own.”

“You’re seriously asking me to marry him?” Steve said, finally catching on. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t find Stark objectively attractive but he knew too much about his personal life to ever actually want a relationship with the guy.

“I thought you were brighter than this, son,” Fury replied. “It’s all perfectly legal these days, Captain. S.H.I.E.L.D. has managed to keep the world in the dark about finding you and I feel this is the best assignment to get you back out in the field. You’ll marry him, spend six weeks with him as his husband, and then divorce him. I’m expecting you to keep any of Stanes men away from him and also try and find out. If we’re going to keep Iron Man on as part of the team we need to know his identity.”

“With all due respect, sir, I don’t think we do. Iron Man is nothing but an asset to this team and if we violate his privacy now we might lose him.” Besides, Steve had grown to really like the guy. He wasn’t willing to throw that away for his employer. Stark had been obnoxious on the best of days as the Avenger’s benefactor. He couldn’t imagine spending six weeks married to the man.

“With all due respect, Captain,” Fury snarled, “you’re employed as an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. and will accept the missions assigned to you. Now get out of my office.”

“Yes, sir.” Steve said as he stood and stalked from the room. This was a terrible idea but what choice did he have?

* * *

 

“Tony, I swear, if you don’t stop fidgeting I’m going to go get Pepper,” Rhodey threatened.

“Fine,” Tony threw his hands up in surrender, “then you fix this fucking thing because I’m not walking out there looking like this.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Rhodey asked as he took over fixing Tony’s bowtie. “It’s not like anyone’s actually going to force you to go through with it.”

Tony glared at him. “No, I don’t want to. But we both know Obadiah’s got Howard’s will on his side and I can’t do a damned thing about it except go through with this. It’s the only thing that’ll work with Howard’s pain in the ass deadline.”

Rhodey sighed and gave Tony his I-love-you-but-you’re-being-an-idiot look before smacking him upside the head.

“I swear, Rhodes, it’s this or lose the company.”

“You could always start your own company, Tony. You don’t have to let Obadiah force you into this.”

“I’m not,” Tony said, shifting away from his friend, “I’m not letting him force me into anything. All Howard said was that I had to be married by the time I was 30. Once this stupid experiment is over with I can divorce whoever they’ve paired me with and get on with my life and fire that rat bastard.”

Rhodey laughed uncomfortably. “Fine,” he huffed, “if you really think this is all for the best then I’m here for you, man. Just… Be careful, Tones. This isn’t going to be easy and if Obadiah can prove this whole thing wasn’t real and you were never in it for the long haul then the whole thing’s pointless.”

Tony smiled tightly at his oldest friend. No, this wasn’t going to be easy. It’d already taken nearly everything in Pepper’s arsenal to even get him to this point and there was really no turning back now. He’d been playing up his persona for the media his whole life, he could stand to spend 6 weeks acting like he actually wanted to be married long term--it’s not like he was actually going to fall for whoever “the experts” had matched him with. The whole premise of the experiment was ridiculous to begin with.

“Tony,” Pepper appeared from the hallway, not a hair out of place, “it’s time.”

“Thanks, Pep.” He flashed her his most confident smile, took a deep breath, and smacked Rhodey on the ass. “Let’s do this, Rhodey-bear,” he said, hoping he sounded much more confident than he felt.

* * *

“Remind me why I agreed to this?” Steve asked the room at large. He found himself standing in front of a full length mirror in his new dress blues, the center of attention to the one of the strangest mixtures of people he’d ever seen gathered in the same room.

There was Sam, his best man, also in his dress uniform looking about as nervous as Steve felt; Natasha and Clint, both dressed to the nines and smirking at him like they knew something he didn’t; and, in a strange turn of events, Phil Coulson--in the same outfit he’d worn at HQ earlier that day.

“Because General Fury asked nicely and didn’t really give you the option to say no,” Natasha said, crossing the room to smooth down Steve’s tie. She kissed him lightly on the cheek before shooing everyone but Sam out of the room to take their seats.

“Buck should be here,” Steve said after a while. This may have been for an assignment, but It was also his wedding day and his best friend should be there. Nevermind that he’d watched him fall to his death more than 60 years ago. It still didn’t feel right.

“Yeah,” Sam cleared his throat, “he should be. Listen, Natasha and I tracked this down and I don’t want you to get all 1940’s sappy about it but we thought you might want it for today… Just don’t tell Fury where you got it.”

He pinned a medal to his chest that Steve had only heard about. Both he and Bucky had been awarded the Medal of Honor posthumously and, somehow, now he had Bucky’s. It was stupid, really, to have to choke back tears at the gesture. But Bucky really should have been there and, for better or worse, Steve was about to get married to someone he (technically) didn’t know from Adam.

“Time to go, man,” Sam said, pocketing his watch. “It’s now or never.”

Steve chuckled nervously, “Guess it’s now then.”


End file.
